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Thursday, 15 November 2012

Funny, when everyone thinks you have cancer, you get MRIs in a week, or even less.

This time was 5 weeks from appointment to MRI. I know - still less than the average wait time. But it felt like a long long wait.

During this time my pain had been increasing again.

Lots of pain, lots of heat, lots of swelling. Generally miserable all the time. Managing pain with two extra strength tylenol and two extra strength ibuprophen four times a day. Still hurts. But I can get through it.

I had a lovely chat with the MRI tech before going in to the tube. She was very friendly, and was full of questions, and just general perkiness. I love those kinds of techs. The hospital is big, and scary, and has lots of really sick people in it. Techs who are positive and kind counter the rest.

My MRI took ages. It was supposed to be from 10-1030. I was in the tube for an hour. Or more. I got out at 11am. There was lots of shots, both without contrast dye and with.

Then the tech helped me out. And she wouldn't look at me. She was trying to keep a neutral face.

She asked when I was going to be following up with my doctor. I said "next month".

The tech "NEXT MONTH! That is too long! He'll get these today, for sure".

Crap.

They saw something. Again. My leg isn't better.

Bought a fancy coffee. And waited for my blood work to be done. Which will no doubt be normal. My MRI, however, will likely not be.

Thursday, 17 May 2012

I have never gotten out of a hospital so quickly. I was desperate to get out of there before they changed their minds.Ikea Start the Car

They didn't find cancer. They found nothing.
Nothing.
Which is great - because I don't have cancer, but not great - because they really don't know what is wrong with my leg.
They are going to assume it is a bone infection (osteomyelitis). 3 months of antibiotics should clear it up.
They didn't manage to culture any infection. No bacteria or virus was found in the "generous sample" that they took from my leg and bone. But it is their best guess at this time.
They still don't really know what is wrong with my leg - and it still really hurts - and my bone throbs at night.

But I'm delighted I'm not starting chemo on Monday :)

Part of me is paranoid that they biopsied the "wrong" area. And that there is sarcoma lower down. Or higher up. And that it will spread and grow.

But that will be caught in August, when we go back fro more testing. And even, at that point, if it is cancer, it will *still* be early.

In the meantime, I'm on my antibiotics, and calcium and vit D to heal any possible infection, and to regrow the damaged bone.

Wednesday, 9 May 2012

Living day by day with probably-cancer is horrible.I know, having for-sure-cancer sucks
worse.Because then you actually
have cancer.I know.

But this waiting.And holding on to hope when the logical part of you says there really is
no chance of it not being cancer.It is so stressful and ridiculous.

When my family asks how I’m doing, I reply that I’m happy in
Egypt for now.As they say,
“denial isn’t just a river in Egypt”.

I’m not really in denial.I just can’t get bogged down in the details of cancer-land
right now.Because I don’t know
them.I don’t know what is
happening.I don’t know what will
be happening over the next week, or two, or the next year.I have a clue.Chemo, surgery, chemo.But that is a little vague when it
comes to planning and scheduling, so I can’t focus on what is coming.

I can focus on getting the kids school work done.I can focus on what we are having for
dinner.I can focus on cuddling on
the sofa and reading.I can focus
on soccer.Taking care of my
family – that I CAN do.That is
really all I can do.Take care of
them and take care of myself.So
I’m healthy going into whatever treatment is on deck for me.

I’m still scheduling my panics.For an hour or two after the kids go to bed each night, I
panic, scour the internet for survival rates, read blogs, cry over the ones
that end suddenly with a grieving spouse providing the last entry, look up
chemo drugs and their side effects, learn shorter routes into the hospital in
case I spike a fever during treatment, and get angry that my family has to go
through this at all.

Tuesday, 8 May 2012

In a perfect world, I get a phone call from Dr. W’s office
saying that I have been referred to another surgeon who will be finishing up my
care.If I have a bone infection,
maybe there is some hotshot surgeon who is brilliant at rebuilding rotten
bones.I happily wait the couple
of weeks for that appointment, do more tests, get fixed up.Wham, Bam, Thank you Mam.Physio, drugs, all done.Wrapped up in a neat little package.

Sadly – that didn’t happen.

I received a call today from Dr. W’s office.

They have booked me in for an appointment with Dr. W and his
team next week on the twelfth floor of the hospital.

Damn it.Dr.
W’s team is the Sarcoma Team.And
the twelfth floor is Oncology (yes, I did memorize the floors while I was in
the elevators during my previous visits).

There is no way that our medical system would waste
everyone’s time and have me come in to meet with the Sarcoma Team to go over
the pathology report if I didn’t have cancer.

Right?If I
didn’t have cancer, they would just shift me off on the next lucky doctor who
specializes in whatever problem that was found.

Monday, 7 May 2012

Watching my kids do track and field without me hurts.I love being a coach. I love playing
and running and jumping and having fun with the kids.Of course I do.It is part of my identity.10 years as a stay at home, homeschooling mom.It is who I am.

Which makes interviewing for full time babysitters
absolutely horrible.

I don’t even know my diagnosis.I don’t even know how long I will need help for.

And it is certainly awkward to explain to candidates.“You seem really nice – and a good fit
for our family.But I really hope
I don’t need to hire you.No
offence”.

If I have cancer, I’m looking to hire someone for nine
months to a year.That will keep
us through chemo, surgery, recovery and more chemo.

If I have a bone infection, or some other kind of problem,
then I will likely need help for 3-4 months.

According to google (I know, I know), at the very least I
will require some sort of surgery to remove the rot and rebuild the bone.I don’t know how much of my bone is
damaged.I am pretty sure my knee
is just fine (no one has indicated otherwise, and my bone scan showed NO
glowing in that area). But even the tibia rebuilding will require some rehab.

Thursday, 3 May 2012

It isn’t my responsibility to help you deal with me having
cancer.It isn’t.

I have enough to handle.

I’m dealing with me having cancer.

I’m dealing with DP dealing with me having cancer.

I’m dealing with my kids dealing with me having cancer.

I’m dealing with my parents dealing with me having cancer.

I am sorry you are upset.I really am.I’m kind of glad too, in a sick and twisted way, as it probably means
you care about me. And that you think it sucks I’m going through this.

But I can’t help you deal with this.I can’t tell you it will all be
okay.I can’t hug you and comfort
you and be there for you, and talk about your fears of mortality.I can’t help you digest this news, and
hear you imagine what you would do if this was happening to you.I just can’t.